New York City, otherwise known as the City that Never Sleeps. Less known as the Concrete Jungle.
Yes, the Concrete Jungle. This would be the best way to describe such a magical and mysterious city. Many arrive to make a new life for themselves, follow their dreams, even to simply break away from the norm of their old, boring towns. However, for the very few, this city was anything but peaceful. For those rare few, a constant, silent battle was being held over and over behind the backs of normal humans.
This battle could only be described as a battle of survival. Where the strong rule and the weak perish if they step out of line. The laws of the jungle, yes, making the Concrete Jungle a fitting place for such a battle.
With the Moon hung high in the dreary sky, it was able to look down upon a group of people running along the rooftops. Below them were people going about their day, going unnoticed by the general public. Ahead was a shadowy figure, clutching his arm that dripped a viscous red from his finger tips.
This man tonight, was the prey to the four chasing him relentlessly. Feeling a chill run down his spine, he turned his head to look at his persuers and caught sight of one of them hold their hands to their chest. After a moment, shards of ice began to form, aiming directly at his back.
Whether by luck or his clumsiness, the man ended up tripping over a pipe tightly bolted down on the roof. A grunt left his throat as he fell over and flew down the dark alleyway of the building. Another grunt left him after slamming into the wall below, almost knocking him out. Catching sight of a railing, he used his good hand to quickly reach out and grab it as tight as he could, causing his body to slam into the rails of the staircase before dropping once more to the ground below.
7 windows. That's how many flew by the man's eyes before he reached down below him and released a torrent of fire at the place he would land. The force of the flame was barely enough to ease his fall just before he landed, only feeling a dull pain in his ankle as he forced himself to roll away.
He couldn't even take a breather in fear of his persuers. Without looking up to the rooftops, he swiftly ran down the dark alley and clutched his wounded arm once more. Turning left down the narrow strip, he started to pace himself so he could focus his powers in his hands. Slowly, he began to scorch his wound to cauterize it at his attempt to hide his trail.
After a few heavy breaths, he ran out of power just before he could finish the quick patch-up, making him click his tongue and look around for a safe place to hide. Luckily, he found another, smaller alley barely wide enough to fit his build.
That small ray of hope was enough to make him sprint to the thin opening without thinking. Just as he turned into it, he suddenly collided with something that crashed into his stomach, making him stumble back against the wall behind him.
After a few shakey breathes, he looked down to see a small child. Immediately, he could tell this was a homeless child, with their bare feet all dirtied from the constant wandering, and wearing an oversized black jacket that reached down to their shins. He was a bit confused as he'd heard no sound from the child he sent flying back into the ground. The only sign of them being okay was how fast they got up to grab a large brown rucksack they were carrying around.
Though he'd wanted to ask if they were okay, he suddenly heard voices coming from the entrance of where he'd just came through. Panic raced through his mind. The sudden shock and slight rest he'd gotten was enough for his adrenaline to wear down and make his body weaker due to his blood loss.
Standing up again, he prepared himself for another run, only to suddenly feel a sharp pain in his arm once more. Falling back against the wall, he looked down to see the child had gotten up and stabbed him where he was wounded. He tried to attack the child on instinct, thinking they were apart of the group that was chasing him, but was surprised to see them suddenly duck down under his wild swing to grab something from the large bag.
A small rustle was heard as they pulled out a plastic garbage bag, which quickly found itself wrapped around his arm over where he had been pierced. He tried to push the child away, but was met with a determined look on their piercing red eyes and a finger held up to their pale lips.
After the child tied the bag to his arm, they quickly paced a ways down the alley towards the street and swung the bloody blade to splatter the blood on the wall and ground. Just as the child finished, the voices down the alley got louder, saying a trail of blood had been found.
Panic rose from the man as he turned to look towards the sound. Gritting his teeth, he drew up his last bit of courage to face the predators with human faces once again. He pushed himself off the wall to stand his ground, only to have his wounded arm be grabbed and yanked towards the smaller alley.
Before he could argue, the child pulled him down the alley with a surprising amount of strength, causing him to stumble along behind them as they paced down the alley. They hadn't walked 20 feet before the child stopped and gestured to an open door of the building to their left.
The man was skeptical at first, but quickly dashed in when he heard the voices getting closer to the entrance of the alley. Inside was quite dirty, but still large enough for a small family to live in comfortably. There were signs of someone cleaning recently as well, but he forgot all about that when he felt a tug of his shirt. Looking down, he saw the child gesture to a staircase that led up to the second floor.
He felt a small sense of warmth suddenly as he realized this child was helping him, albeit in a strange fashion. Nodding he quickly paced up the stairs to the second floor into a small bedroom with a window that overlooked the alleyway. He did his best to breathe slowly and draw his energy in as he looked down the alleyway towards where the persuers would show up. There, he saw the child walking slowly towards them, making him feel a deep and terrible fear.
He wanted to call out to them and call them back to hide, but couldn't make it in time as he saw the shadows of his persuers. Ducking down, he rested his back against the wall and listened to his surroundings.
"The trail leads further down here, sir." A soft, winded voice called out from afar.
"Damnit, did he make it out into the street?" A gruffer voice asked in a fit of rage.
"Look, there's a kid."
"Hey kid, did you see a man about my height come through here?"
A long pause was heard, followed by another few sets of footsteps that came running to meet the two.
"Down there? How the hell is that man so fast?"
"Sir, I found another trail that leads this way."
"What? You fucking brat!" The gruff man shouted, angrier than before.
A thud of something getting hit was heard, quickly followed by the crash of something hitting the ground hard and sliding a bit.
"Sir, we can't kill civies, even if they are homeless."
"Fucking brat, wasting our time. You two, get to the roof and see if you can find the bastard. Charles, you're with me on the ground."
"Yes Sir." Three simultaneous voices called out before the sound of footsteps fading away was heard.
For once, the man finally felt a sense of relief after such a long night. He figured he would be hunted by another group after he was wounded from his previous battle, but he didn't expect such powerful foes to gang up on him all at once.
Leaning his head back, he finally relaxed his body and took a few deep breathes. The sounds of cars passing by and the chatter of people in the streets were somehow more soothing than they had ever been. Even the small breeze flowing through the cracked window into the warm room felt so satisfying after such an endeavor.
After almost an hour passed, he heard the sound of tiny feet slowly patting up the stairs towards the room he was in, causing him to be on guard once more. The steps slowed as they reached the door he sat across from, then stopping just before reaching the entrance.
Slowly, the head of a child peeked out from the side of the door to peer at him. From the bruise on their face, he could tell that this was the same child that had helped him earlier. What was strange was the warm, worried look he saw from them, making his heart lurch to the side in grief as he realized the men had hit this child that had saved him.
"It's alright kid, I'm not gonna try and hurt you again. Thank you, so much, for saving me back there." The man's voice was still a little weak from his exhaustion, but it wad followed by a warm smile that seemed to make the child blush a little.
After a few moments, the child slipped past the entrance and slowly walked towards him. They clutched the rucksack on their back as they approached, but their eyes never met his as they walked. Instead, they seemed to glance at every part of his body that had been wounded tonight. From the blade marks caused by wind, the piercing holes in his jacket caused by ice, and finally to the bag that had been wrapped around his arm to hold the slow stream of blood that was still leaking into it.
After making it to the man, the child stopped and held their hand out to him and made a grabbing gesture with their fingers. Curious, the man gently grabbed their hand and allowed the child to pull him to his feet. The child then made a motion for him to follow them into the next room.
"Where are you taking me, kid?" The man asked in a soft voice, rather intrigued by the courageous child before him.
The child silently led him further down the hall towards another staircase. Making sure the man was following him first, the child quickly hurried up the staircase. It was tiring for the man to follow them up those several flights of stairs, but he couldn't help his growing curiosity as the child kept looking back to make sure he followed.
Finally making it to the 8th floor, the child disappeared into the only door that rested in the small hallway. A small light brushed the darkness away in small strokes, clearly made from a few candles used to light the way.
Just as the man stepped through, he heard a crashing sound that made his head snap towards the end of the room. There, he found the child behind a pile of stuff that was dumped out of their sack. Around them was a single bed, a nightstand covered in papers and a few lit candles. Along the walls of the sizable room were countless books stacked among the shelves, all on various subjects that were neatly organized in place. He quickly gathered that this place was the penthouse of this abandoned building. All of the other fittings had been torn away when it was left behind, but the bookshelves themselves looked quite new and sturdy.
"Do you...live here alone, child?" The man asked in both amazement and pity. He suddenly felt sorry for the small child as they nodded to him with that warm smile. It was as if they didn't care much that they were living alone like this. In fact, the child looked more satisfied than most people he'd met in his life.
A deeper sadness fell on the man's heart then. Not only was the child alone, but they were quite happy to be living like this. A deep sigh left the man's lips as he rubbed the bridge of his nose with his good hand. Hearing the patter of footsteps approaching him, he looked down to see the child had come up and showed him a blank book with a few scribbles written in them.
The man bent down a little to gently grab the book from the child before wandering over to one of the lit candles on an empty book shelf. Holding it up, he gave a warm smile and read what was written in the book aloud.
"Let's see here. 'Mister, are you a...mage?" The man stuttered a bit in shock as he read the words, swiftly turning to look at the child that stood innocently a small ways away.