As Darkness Fears the Sun

II: The Boy Who Conquered Magic

II

The Boy Who Conquered Magic

The air smelled like ozone, and it was going to suffocate Kit.

He pulled at the mask that covered the lower half of his face, covering up more of his nose, attempting to block out the smell. But that was nearly impossible. The central sector of the city was practically oozing magic; the crackling electric smell of it was permanent.

Kit shifted on the balls of his feet, checking his watch. It was an analog, powered by batteries he had bought in the UnderMarket, more reliable and less hackable than the ones linked with magic to the standard time.

12:53 AM

He crouched on the edge of the roof, the cuffs around his wrists burning as they forced his eyes to focus on the apartment across the alley, through the window to the man waiting inside.

Well, it wasn't really a man. Nor was he waiting for Kit to show up. The werewolf had gone through great pains to ensure that his home remained secure, impossible to track, almost as impossible to enter. But all Kit had needed to do to get its location was bribe the right person. And he had ways of getting inside that could get around any magic.

He had been watching the werewolf for weeks, learning his schedule, his habits. Who he associated with, when he associated with them. Finally, Kit had learned everything he had needed to know.

And tonight was the night he would kill the werewolf.

1:12 AM

Through the window of the apartment, Kit watched the werewolf move through from his kitchen to his bedroom, tossing an empty cup in the sink as he did.

Kit rose to feet. He zipped his dark jacket up tighter, making sure the hood was secure. His lower face mask was already in place, but he adjusted it anyway. He shifted his feet, the thin rubber soles of his supple, cloth boots scraping across the surface of the roof. The analog watch blinks in front of the cuffs of his sleeves, which were held shut and close to his body by wide leather wristbands, inscribed with old magic runes long forgotten by modern culture.

While Kit himself possessed no usable magic, the power still flowed in his veins, as it did with every living creature. Some would argue that life existed because of the magic; that magic was life. Some even worshipped it as a god.

Kit didn't believe in God.

No, the magic wasn't something to be worshipped. It was something to be used, and while he didn't have inherent magic, that couldn't stop him from using magical tools. As long as he was alive, he could tap into the magic through a conduit, shaping it to his will.

Kit's conduit had been passed down his family for generations, since a time before the Awakening. And they had been using it to kill long before the New Law was even an idea.

Kit reached down and pulled the gun from the thigh holster on his left leg, flicking the safety off.

1:18 AM

It was time.

He took a deep breath, feeling for the magic that rumbled somewhere in his veins, amplified by the conduits on his wrists. He reached for it, slippery little beast that it was, clenching it in his fists and yanking.

Fire raged up his arms as he bent the world with the magic, folding it around himself, leaping through space and time. The shadows warped around him as he vanished from the rooftop, leaving nothing but a sharper scent of electricity.