Seven

Chapter 1

   Seven learned three things that night. One; walking for miles on end with soaking wet socks and shoes is both incredibly uncomfortable and a very bad idea. Two; removing the aforementioned socks and shoes leads to several of Seven's less than human traits to be noticed by some more than human people. And three; getting kicked in the kidneys really, really hurts.

   Seven's face was pressed into the packed dirt, her entire abdomen throbbing in time with her rapid heartbeat. She could feel the sticky warmth of blood trickling out of her various cuts, promising a world of pain later.

   "Think the mutt's had enough, eh?"

   Please say yes, please leave me here, please-

   "Leave 'er in the mud where she belongs. Half human filth."

   She waited until long after their laughter had faded out of hearing before gingerly sitting up, dabbing at the fresh scrapes on the side of her face. What'd felt like hours of torture had most likely been several minutes of being soundly beaten into a pulp by the side of the road. Her mouth was an odd combination of throbbing pain and tingling numbness, the sharp scent of her own blood blocking out everything else. Sure enough, one of her teeth was missing. She spent a few minutes searching the ground around herself, wiping off the tooth and rather forcefully pressing it back into the vacant space it'd come from.

   Sometimes, Seven thanked her maker for the incredible healing he'd thought to include. Broken bones healed in days instead of weeks, slashes that would have others scrambling for stitches healed almost completely by morning, and broken teeth could literally be stuck back into place. Or they'd grow back in about a week, but that hurt like a hot iron poker being shoved into her gums.

   They'd taken Seven's gloves and shoes, leaving her with no choice but to continue her travels with claw tipped fingers and toes exposed for anyone to see. Other non-human attributes were easier to disguise if she kept her head ducked and mouth shut, but claws were a bit difficult. She'd filed them down as best as she could, but they were still noticeable.

   "Hmm. You know, I was a bit curious as to whether they were going to kill you or not. I might've stepped in, if the situation warranted it."

   Seven flinched, letting out a low sound of discomfort as a stabbing pain flared up in her midsection. Cracked ribs? It wouldn't be surprising. One of those men had been wearing what felt like steel toe boots. A man stood nearby in the shadows of the forest, leaning against a dark wooden staff and regarding Seven with detached amusement. Immediately, Seven was unsettled. There was something empty about his gaze, like he'd stand there and smile politely if she had indeed been beaten to death.

   She felt the sudden urge to snarl at him, to see if he'd react. From the looks of him, he probably wouldn't. The dark cloak he wore was embroidered with unfamiliar runes, the silvery thread reflecting light oddly and giving an overall impression of an aura of strange magics drifting in the air around him. Not a man. Definitely a warlock. And if the cloak alone wasn't enough to prove it, his tufty hair was three shades of metallic silver. Silver!

   "Do you speak this language, or should I switch? You seem a bit bewildered," he continued, looking Seven up and down and wrinkling his nose in distaste. "And a bit worse for wear, if you don't mind my saying."

     She stared at him blankly, which apparently prompted him to switch languages and try again. Seven cut him off mid sentence, earning herself an offended look. "I understood you just fine the first time. Are you a warlock?"

   He bowed dramatically, sweeping out his arms and nearly smacking her with the end of his staff. "Good guess. I am the esteemed warlock of Blackwater Bay. The only one for many days travel, in fact."

   Seven felt a slow smile creep across her face, which she immediately regretted as another sharp pain flared up. Exactly who she'd been searching for. Well, exactly what she'd been looking for. He offered her a hand, which she ignored in favor of struggling to her feet unaided. He let out a quiet whistle when his silver eyes caught on Seven's claws, looking immensely more interested in her than he had a moment before.

   "I am Leopal Negalus Halloran. May I inquire what your name is?" He made an odd hand gesture, as if he were giving her a cue to speak. It was odd, and didn't do anything to make Seven feel remotely better about him.

   "It's Seven. You have an incredibly pompous name. You sound like a Veridian noble." Something that couldn't quite identify shifted in Leopal's expression, his brow furrowing slightly.

   "You're one to speak. Your name is a number. What do you want?" His tone was a bit more snappish than it had been before, like he was rapidly growing tired of her. She didn't pick up on it, too busy examining her now blood spattered clothing.

   Seven looked up, spitting out a mouthful of dark blood and wiping her mouth with her torn sleeve. She hesitated a few seconds before answering.

   "I need a soul."