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The loud commotion rang out around me. A chill rushed up my spine as screams pressed at my soul, battering at my walls.  The guard was still atop of me with the weight of the dead biting down. My realm spun and shattered. Reality felt like a cold slap in the face, not dissimilar to when Grim slapped me with a fish. His wacky lopsided grin came to mind and it took all of my mental effort to suppress the smile trying to make its way onto my face. 

The guard was lifted off of me and immediately my body sighed with relief. The runes marking my body burnt like fire as I brought forth memories of death and destruction. I needed to appear broken by what had just happened. If I was overlooked then I was homebound. The task was always dangerous at this point. I had completed the murder but now had to get out of the scene without suspicion or any evidence to be found. If any was seen, then the bloodhounds would search for me. The investigators were good, they knew what to look for like how I knew what my clients were marked by. The bloodhounds had been on my tail before and I didn't want it to happen again. 

Grim's presence hung in the air beside me, pulling me away to where Slate stood. Waving was out of the option, the snow wasn't falling thick enough for the risk to be minimal. My whistle rang a low note that hijacked the breeze and reached Slate's ears before fading out into the white sky. Her brown hair swished as she spun around. Our eyes met and off she went. 

My exit was clear. Slate would open up an easy parting between the bystanders so I could escape to my beloved dark and weaving alleyways.  Her amplifier rune was no longer by my side and the emptiness was soon filled with longing. To be in the clock tower. To be planning. To kill the king.

The longing was harsh and cold; it matched the outside world, from the weather to the people, perfectly. Chills could wrack your body with the force of death but the empty stares of the soulless population cut deeper. In this world, you had to be harsh being soft was not an option. If you were soft then the world would crush you effortlessly. Even the harshness of the bleak outlook on life that we all had, stretched far beyond the inhabited areas of land. Maybe there was something out there, something better than the arduous burden of our daily lives. 

As my mind wandered I felt it. The first slither of unwanted magic in the air.

Magic was escaping from somewhere, someone. No one else was supposed to die today yet the smell of death was growing more pungent by the second and the sudden influx and abundance of magic was affecting my connections in the realms. The dark realm and reality swam together, two fish in a school both swimming for the same goal. Dark and light intersected, the world shook in my eyes. Heat coursed through my body as I lurched forward, my vision fading in and out. There was only one person who could do this.

Owen.

What had he done?