The mage held out a hand, and wind magic once again began forming. It gathered in only a second—faster than most mages in Vaine were able to conjure—and without even an incantation.

Spears of wind flew down at him. Dominic focused mana into his legs and sprinted down the alley.

“Aster!” he shouted, knowing the crow was still watching from far above. “Go to the next one!”

The tiny presence circling in the sky hesitated for a moment, then moved off. Dominic followed through the streets.

He was faster than the mage, but he was still being tailed closely. He couldn't lead the danger straight to Aster’s siblings, so he looked for a way up. Soon, he spotted a piece of old scaffolding—part of some abandoned construction project. Without breaking stride, he ran up and onto the roofs.

The sky opened up above him, a deep, beautiful black that he only noticed for a moment before a wall of wind crashed into his side.

He rolled and leapt back to his feet. In front of him, the mage had caught up, glaring at him from the roof of the building across the street. He raised his hand, magic conjuring again. Dominic couldn't use sleep magic this time. It was easy to resist as long as the opponent knew it was coming. But that didn't matter.

He crouched down, put some strength into his legs, and shot across the gap just as the spell rained down on him. The spikes of wind impacted into him, sending pain throughout his body. Despite that, the mage could only stumble back in surprise as he charged through the barrage. There was barely any damage. They had torn through his clothes, but none had even pierced his skin. Mana would always give way to more or denser mana. And Dominic was confident in his ability to take a hit.

The palm of his hand made contact with the mage’s face as he drove the man’s head into the roof tiles.

“Agh!”

Blood splattered out from the impact, but he was conscious, grabbing at Dominic’s fingers, trying to pry them off.

Suddenly, there was a whistling sound, and two arrows thudded into Dominic’s arms. A reinforcement had arrived. The wind mage managed to free himself as his grip weakened, muscles recoiling in pain from the impact.

The man stumbled back, wiping the blood out of his eyes. He quickly raised his hand to cast another spell, but felt his entire body go cold at what was already in front of him.

“How—!”

Dominic grabbed his collar and tugged him to the side, hiding in the shadow of his body. Three more arrows flew in and pierced into the man’s back, his eyes flying wide open.

Blood gurgled out of his lips as he stared down at the person who had so readily used him as a meat shield.

“What kind of healer…”

Dominic tossed him aside and bolted over the roof, locating the presence of the archer. A scent like metal and armor polish. And one whose mana now had a trace of fear.

More arrows came at him. He dodged most, but some still hit. One in the shoulder. Two in the forearms from blocking them. He drew closer. The archer had made a grave mistake.

Healers were usually thought of as easy targets. They were people who stood at the back, or didn't even show up until the battle had ended. But if you met one that was familiar with fighting, you had to run. Because their affinity made them some of the most unkillable people in the world.

Dominic’s wounds closed, the flesh regrowing, pushing the arrowheads out. They clattered to the ground. The archer had realized their error by now and was running, but it was too late. Dominic leapt down from the roof and into a thin back alley, and he landed heavily on someone else’s body.

“Agh!”

The archer, a woman in black, had fallen under his weight. Just as he was about to slam her forehead into the ground to knock her out, only a few feet ahead a rat with a vaguely familiar signature hurriedly scrambled across the alley—followed by a second, larger presence.

Time seemed to slow for a moment. He could see, just emerging from the side street, the snarling muzzle of a hound. Dominic grabbed one of the arrows that had scattered out of her quiver and, without another thought, swung.

He felt the arrowhead pierce flesh, and then there was an almighty howling. The huge dog that had been chasing the rat writhed in pain, then untransformed. A middle-aged man appeared, an arrow sticking out of his chest, yelling obscenities. The rat—Aster’s other sister, he knew it now—stared at him in both fear and awe before he opened his mouth and shouted.

“Go and hide now, Lia!”

She didn't ask any questions, just turned tail and fled, disappearing into the darkness.

“You’re the fucking healer!” The stabbed man shrieked.

The woman beneath him struggled as well.

“Get the fuck off m—”

He put some strength into his fist and smashed the archer’s face into the ground. She went silent instantly. The man scrambled back as Dominic stood.

“Don’t touch m—”

Dominic kicked him so hard a couple of his teeth flew out. His eyes rolled back and he fell to the ground.

He glanced up, focusing, locating Aster again. He glanced up and down the alley, figuring out where he was, and dashed off again. There was one more left.

He wove through the streets, scanning the area, trying to find a presence that could've belonged to Aster’s youngest sibling—Mour, the fox. He found him, then immediately swore inwardly. Someone was on the kid’s tail, and they were much stronger than the last few.

Dominic turned into a tiny alley, sprinting through and immediately slamming into a body on the other end as they crossed. Out of his peripheral vision he spotted a black fox trying to run away, but he was slower than his sisters, and he was too big to slip into cracks like them.

Immediately, a bolt of hot pain went through Dominic’s body. The man he’d tackled had grabbed him roughly, sending a shock of lightning magic through him. For some reason, the last spy wasn't a transformation mage. Perhaps they thought it wasn't needed since Mour’s beast form couldn't hide that well. Or perhaps they had had the foresight to put at least one person on the team who could actually fight back.

He threw Dominic off of him, glaring before registering in the faint light of the moons who he was.

“The healer,” he muttered, a smile spreading on his face. “To think the first target would come right to me.”

He raised his hand, and lightning immediately struck down. Instinctively, Dominic gathered his mana, taking the hit head on. It enveloped him from head to toe. The light blinded him, so bright it turned the darkness of night bluish-white. But it wasn't able to penetrate through the dense layer of mana he’d formed around himself. Only the ground around his feet him charred.

The mage finally realized something was wrong and tore his hand away.

“What the hell?!” he shouted.

It must have come as a surprise that anyone could block his magic. Lightning magic was by far the most mana-dense of the affinities. But the moment of confusion cost him.

Dominic charged forward. The mage stumbled back to make some distance, flicking his hand again.

Another bolt of electricity struck down. The lightning reached him, then parted harmlessly around his body.

Bang!

The mage was blown back by Dominic’s fist just as the failed magic struck the ground. He rolled and skidded across the alley, but quickly bounced back to his feet and cast another bolt.

This time it deflected off his arm and hit the wall beside him. Dominic closed the distance in an instant and put his hands on the side of the mage’s head. Sleep magic could be resisted if they knew it was coming, but at this distance…

“Sleep.”

His eyes, wide and frantic, immediately rolled up in his head, and his head flopped over. Dominic dropped him, but was suddenly sent back to full alarm as he heard Aster’s voice.

“LET GO OF HIM!”

He immediately bolted for the sound, cursing at himself. He had been too focused on the wrong thing.

He turned a corner, and in the street a tall, lithe man with a knife in hand was holding Mour by the throat. The boy, no longer a fox, was kicking with his feet to no avail while Aster, also untransformed, watched on in horror.

The man saw Dominic, scanned him, then smiled as he recognized him.

“Wow, they're all gathering,” he remarked. “Should I just wait for the two girls to show up too?”

Dominic took a step forward, but the man immediately brought his knife up.

“Stay there, healer,” he said, “unless you wanna see this kid’s head fly.”

He ground his teeth. He could sense more reinforcements arriving from afar. They were too short on time. He glanced at Aster, who looked like the world was collapsing around him, then parted his lips to speak.

“Get out of here right now, Aster,” he ordered.

“What?! I can't—”

“There are more people coming. I’ll take care of this, so go.”

“I’m not leaving.”

Dominic bit his lip. He could tell the boy wasn't going to be persuaded as long as his brother was in danger.

“Fine,” he said. “But you didn't see anything.”

In an instant, golden mana spread out across the ground, startling everyone.

“What are you—”

The man pressed his knife to Mour’s throat, but went silent in confusion as he realized what it was.

“…Healing magic?”

It was an area healing spell. The cut on Mour’s neck sealed up.

“Why did you—”

His face immediately paled as he felt that something was wrong.

“What are you doing?!” he shouted.

He tried to use his knife, but suddenly he couldn't put any strength into his arms and the weapon slipped out of his grip, clattering to the ground. Mour fell to the ground as well, and the man felt an unwanted fear spreading across his body. Every part of him was shaking.

“Aster, get Mour right now and run,” Dominic ordered.

Aster snapped into action, turning back into a crow and shooting across the street. His little brother coughed, holding his throat, but knew they had to go. He turned into a fox and followed his brother. The man tried to grab for them, but he only fell to the ground, too weak to control his body. The two kids slipped and into the darkness.

“What…”

He was heaving for breath as Dominic approached.

“…What did you…”

The amber eyes that met his gaze were apathetic. Some people were just taking orders, no matter how cowardly it could be to live that way. But this man had crossed the bridge of no return.

Dominic raised his hand. In his palm, purplish-black man that almost resembled spiderwebs gathered, swirling, a pulsing string of it connected to the man’s chest. He paled further and groaned, knowing what it was. He could feel it being drained from his body.

“N-no…you can't…”

Dominic didn't hesitate a moment to flick his hand outwards, tearing the connection. The man dropped dead instantly. The mana in his hands shattered, then flaked away in the breeze. It was a forbidden magic in Vaine that few people even knew existed, and with good reason. Healers were universally admired for their good deeds.

But if life could be given, it could also be taken away.

Immediately, Dominic was set upon by multiple hands. The reinforcements that had arrived roughly pushed down, shoving his face into the cold stone ground. Manacles were snapped onto his wrists, and something heavy was put around his neck as well.

“We’ve got him!” someone shouted, reporting it to the others who were just arriving.

Dominic spat a bit of sand out of his mouth, scanning the surroundings, feeling Aster and Mour’s presences fading, getting further and further into the distance.

“We got the healer!”

∞

Dominic sat in chains in the castle’s jail, mindlessly staring in boredom. It was obvious they were going to get rid of him, so now he was just waiting for it to happen.

He perked up as footsteps echoed through the dingy stairwell that led down to the prison. A silhouette appeared at his cell, lit dimly by the lamps in the hall. Dominic glanced at who it was, then waved cordially, his chains clanking.

“Good morning, Silas,” he greeted.

He shot him a smile, knowing it would make the demon uncomfortable.

“How have you been?”