LIGHTNING RIPPED ACROSS THE SKY, THROWING A HARSH WHITE LIGHT ON THE CONCRETE. Jaculus was running as fast as he could, hugging his tattered shirt as rain poured down his back. He was soaking wet, his bare feet slipping and skidding on the uneven sidewalk.

Behind him, flashlight beams sliced through the curtains of rain and sleet, the sounds of treading feet and distant shouts keeping him on his toes. Jaculus took a sharp turn, fleeing into an alleyway. He drove his foot into a mountain of boxes, and the structure shuddered and collapsed, blocking the entrance.

Jaculus fought for breath as he sank beside a dumpster, the overhang from a nearby building sheltering him from the rain. Hands trembling, he dug into his pant’s pocket, cupping a small object with the utmost care.

The object was small, shaped from heavy glass and smooth to the touch. The clear orb rolled freely in his palms, slick from rain. Within a kaleidoscope of greens and yellows, two black lines intertwined around each other. It was roughly the same size as Jaculus’s palm, but he held it like it was made of pure gold.

“Get back here, brat!” a voice barked from the other side of the wall, “We know you’re back there!”

Purple light burned behind the cardboard, and Jaculus leapt up, shoving his treasure back into his pocket. He staggered back, a chain-link fence digging between his shoulders. The snarling of beasts made his heart go haywire as he drafted out a plan. The dumpster was just high enough of a leverage point to jump over the fence, and it would provide reasonable enough cover for him to get some space between his pursuers.

“Kill him!” a voice commanded, and Jaculus’s makeshift barrier exploded. Jaculus threw himself to the ground, covering his head with his hands. He recovered within seconds, black spots dotting his vision as he stumbled to his feet.

Four hounds swaggered into the alleyway, pulling furiously on transparent, crackling leashes. Their bodies were ethereal, not constructed of flesh and fur but pure violet energy. Their eyes were red orbs suspended inside their heads, jiggling with every rampant movement. The hounds had no mouths, but Jaculus had bigger things to worry about than their supposed teeth.

Two hooded figures held the hounds tight, faces unrecognizable as shadows washed over their features. One rose a tattooed hand, flicking a skeletal finger in the air. A hound surged forward as its length extended, the energy bleeding off its back materializing into spines.

Jaculus whipped on his heels, scrambling to climb on top of the dumpster. The metal was slick and it towered above his short stature. His hair stuck to his neck as he clawed at the side of the dumpster, wary of the beast hurdling at him.

Pain ripped like fire through his calf, and Jaculus screamed, locking the muscles in his arms to keep himself from falling. He spared a weak glance at his leg. The hound’s spine had pierced through his skin, and he could already feel its toxins pumping through his veins. He didn’t have much time.

Letting out a howl, Jaculus threw himself over the fence, breaking out into another frantic sprint as he ran out of the alleyways. Grey buildings sped by in a blur as he forced his legs forward, ignoring the pain that bled through his shorts. The buildings became sparse as the sidewalk turned cracked, the ground uneven under his feet.

Grass and mud squished under his feet as he paused at a tall, rusted gate wrapped in vines. A rush of lightheadedness fell over him, and he swayed, dangerously close to falling over. Just beyond the open gate, a small house stood in the midst of an overgrown garden, trinkets of bronze and silver flashing with every bolt of lightning.

Jaculus hovered at the threshold, his sweat mixing with rain. A strange heaviness weighed on his shoulders, urging him to stay away. It was the oppressive aura of sheer magical power, a sign that something lay inside that shouldn’t be disturbed. He threw another glance behind him. His pursuers were getting closer.

He darted into the garden, loose gravel like black ice almost dragging him to his knees. He was barely standing, fingers numb and legs heavy. The stitch in his side twisted bitterly as he stood before the house. They wouldn’t dare follow him here.

The porch was small and unassuming, completely bare of any characterising features. The single step up brought him past his breaking point, the black spots finally overtaking his vision. Wooden panels collided with his cheek, splinters cutting into his face. He groaned as he drew his knees to his chest, the sensation of the treasure in his pocket rubbing against his leg the last thing he felt before he slipped into darkness.