Lukas couldn't sleep.
He stared at the ceiling, thinking about Garrett. The man had seen everything. Knew about **Plunder**. And despite his promises to disappear, he was still a problem.
*"I could help you find them."*
The words kept repeating in his head. Garrett thought he was useful now. Thought he'd bought his freedom with information about other mages.
But he was wrong.
In his old life, Lukas had trusted people. His squad, his commanders. They'd left him to die. Trust was a luxury he couldn't afford anymore.
By dawn, he'd made his decision.
He got dressed and went to the wine cellar. The stone steps were quiet. He unlocked Garrett's door and stepped inside.
Garrett was awake and looked much better. Hope was a hell of a drug.
"Lukas!" Garrett stood up quickly. "I've been thinking about what we talked about. That merchant's daughter in Greyhold—Lydia Brightmere. Her father deals in magical items, so she's had the best training. Lightning magic, and she's strong enough that even the local lord respects her family."
"Tell me more."
"She's not married, lives with few guards, and likes to ride alone in the countryside. Perfect target. Powerful, but isolated. No one would look for her killer in a place like this."
Garrett's eyes were bright with hope. He thought he'd found his ticket to freedom.
"You've thought this through."
"I told you I could be useful. I know who has real power in this region. With my help, you could steal from a dozen mages before anyone notices."
Lukas nodded slowly, as if weighing the proposal. "And in exchange, I let you disappear into the wilderness."
"Exactly. We both get what we want—you get power, I get freedom. Perfect partnership."
"There's just one problem with your plan, Garrett."
The former fire mage's smile faltered. "What problem?"
"I don't need a partner." Lukas's voice remained conversational, almost friendly. "I need silence. Permanent silence."
Understanding dawned in Garrett's eyes like sunrise over a graveyard. "But... but you agreed. You said I could go free if I helped—"
"I said I'd keep your offer in mind. I never agreed to anything."
"That's... that's not..." Garrett backed against the wall, his face draining of color. "We had a deal."
"No, we didn't. You made assumptions." Lukas moved closer, and despite his young appearance, something in his posture made Garrett flinch. "You assumed I was the kind of person who honors agreements with people who have nothing to offer but information I can find elsewhere."
"Please." The word came out as barely more than a whisper. "I won't tell anyone, I swear it. I'll go so far away that—"
"You'll go somewhere, certainly."
Garrett opened his mouth to scream, but Lukas was already moving. His hand clamped over the mage's mouth while his other arm wrapped around his throat, applying pressure to the carotid artery. Military training in a younger body felt clumsy, but effective enough.
"This isn't personal," Lukas whispered as Garrett's struggles grew weaker. "You were useful. You gave me valuable information about potential targets. But usefulness doesn't buy you a life."
Garrett's eyes bulged with terror and betrayal, his hands clawing weakly at Lukas's arms. But the strength was already leaving his body as blood flow to his brain slowed to a trickle.
"In my last life, I learned that trust gets you killed," Lukas continued, his voice calm and steady. "But I also learned that leaving enemies alive gets you killed faster."
It took three minutes. When Garrett's body went completely limp, Lukas held the position for another full minute to be certain. Then he released his grip and let the corpse slump to the floor.
*First kill in this new world.*
The thought should have carried weight, should have meant something. In his old life, taking a life had been a necessary evil that haunted his dreams. But now, standing over Garrett's cooling body, he felt... nothing. No guilt, no regret, no satisfaction.
Just cold pragmatism and the mental note that he'd need to work on his technique. This body was younger, weaker than his old one. He'd need to account for that in future encounters.
*Maybe **Plunder** took more than just magical power,* he mused. *Maybe it stole the parts of me that used to care about things like honor and mercy.*
The thought didn't disturb him as much as it probably should have.
Disposing of the body took most of the morning. The old storm drains were narrow and treacherous, but they served their purpose. By noon, Garrett Ashford had joined the countless other mysteries of people who'd vanished into the wilderness without a trace.
Lukas cleaned himself thoroughly, changed clothes, and returned to his daily routine as if nothing had happened. At lunch, when a servant mentioned that the drifter from the market square seemed to have moved on during the night, Lukas nodded with appropriate disinterest.
That evening, he made his way to the training yard to test his stolen abilities properly.
The fire magic responded to his will like a faithful hound, eager to please and quick to obey. He started small—candle flames dancing between his fingers—then gradually increased the intensity. Soon he was conjuring roaring torrents of flame that painted the practice area in flickering orange light.
But more impressive than the raw power was the knowledge that came with it. Garrett's years of training and experience had become his own, downloaded directly into his consciousness through **Plunder's** alien hunger. He knew instinctively how to shape fire into weapons, how to control its heat and intensity, how to make it burn hot enough to melt steel or cool enough to provide warmth without burning.
"Impressive display."
Lukas spun toward the voice, flame sword materializing in his hand before he consciously decided to summon it. His father stood at the edge of the training area, watching with an expression that mixed surprise with calculated interest.
"Father." Lukas let the flames die, forcing his breathing to remain steady. "I didn't hear you approach."
"Clearly." Baron Aldric stepped closer, studying his youngest son with new eyes. "When did this happen?"
"This morning, during meditation. I was trying to find my magical core like Cassian suggested, and suddenly..." Lukas shrugged, as if spontaneous magical awakening was perfectly normal.
"Fire magic." The Baron's voice carried notes of satisfaction and relief. "Your mother's bloodline. I should have expected it to manifest eventually."
*Lucky coincidence.* If Garrett had possessed earth magic or water magic, this conversation would be going very differently.
"The awakening ceremony is in eight days," Baron Aldric continued. "You'll want to practice, learn proper control. I'll arrange additional training with Master Thorne."
"Of course, Father."
"One more thing, Lukas." The Baron's expression grew serious. "This changes your prospects considerably. Fire magic of this strength will guarantee your acceptance to the Royal Academy. Don't squander this opportunity."
"I won't."
After his father left, Lukas remained in the training yard, practicing under the stars. The fire danced at his command, fueled by stolen power and shaped by stolen knowledge.
Eight days until the ceremony. Eight days to decide whether fire magic would be enough for his purposes, or whether he needed to hunt again.
Garrett had mentioned other targets—Lydia Brightmere and her lightning magic chief among them. The kind of power that would mark him not just as competent, but as truly formidable.
*One more hunt,* he told himself. *One more theft, and then I'll have everything I need.*
But even as he made the decision, part of him recognized it for the lie it was. **Plunder** had awakened something inside him that fire magic alone wouldn't satisfy. An hunger that grew with feeding, that would always demand more.
The question wasn't whether he'd hunt again.
The question was who would be next.
In the distance, thunder rumbled across clear skies, as if the very storm was calling to him.
*Soon,* he promised the darkness. *Soon.*