Lukas left Thornwick before dawn.
He'd told his father he was visiting the Ashford estate to discuss potential trade agreements. A believable lie—the Ashfords were minor nobles who dealt in grain and livestock, exactly the kind of boring business that would explain a few days away from home.
His horse was a sturdy mare named Shadow, chosen for endurance rather than speed. The saddlebags contained clothes, supplies, and a purse of gold coins that would let him pose as a young merchant if needed.
The road to Greyhold wound through rolling hills and sparse forests. Good farming country, but isolated enough that a traveler could disappear without too many questions. Perfect for what he had planned.
He reached the outskirts of Greyhold by late afternoon on the second day. The town was larger than Thornwick, built around a crossroads that connected several major trade routes. Merchant wagons filled the streets, and the air smelled of horses, leather, and money.
Lukas found an inn called The Silver Mare and rented a room for the night. The innkeeper was a chatty woman who seemed eager to share local gossip with a well-dressed young traveler.
"You picked a good time to visit," she said while showing him to his room. "The harvest festival is next week, so everyone's in good spirits. Lots of business, lots of opportunities for a young man with coin to spend."
"I'm actually here about a potential business arrangement," Lukas said. "With the Brightmere family. Do you know them?"
"Of course! Marcus Brightmere's one of our most successful merchants. Deals in magical components—rare herbs, enchanted metals, things like that. His daughter Lydia handles most of the day-to-day operations now."
"What's she like?"
"Smart as a whip, that one. Pretty too, though she's got a temper when crossed. Lightning magic, you know. Heard she once put a hole clean through a man's chest when he tried to rob one of her caravans."
*Perfect.*
"She sounds formidable."
"That she is. Lives in the big house on Merchant's Row, right next to her father's warehouse. Can't miss it—it's got blue shutters and a brass lightning rod on the roof."
Lukas thanked the innkeeper and settled into his room. Tomorrow he'd scout the Brightmere property and figure out how to approach Lydia. He needed to get close enough to touch her, but in a way that wouldn't make her suspicious.
The next morning, he walked through Greyhold's market district. The Brightmere warehouse was exactly where the innkeeper had said—a large stone building with "BRIGHTMERE TRADING" painted above the entrance. The house next door was smaller but well-maintained, with the blue shutters and lightning rod that marked it as the family residence.
Lukas spent an hour observing the property from a nearby café. He saw several employees coming and going from the warehouse, but no sign of Lydia herself. A few guards were posted around the building, but they looked more concerned with protecting merchandise than watching for threats.
Around midday, a young woman emerged from the house.
She had to be Lydia. Mid-twenties, with dark hair pulled back in a practical braid and clothes that were expensive but functional. She moved with confidence, and Lukas could sense the magical power radiating from her even at a distance.
*Lightning magic.* Stronger than Cassian's, maybe even stronger than what he'd stolen from Garrett. **Plunder** stirred in the depths of his consciousness, recognizing potential prey.
Lydia walked to the warehouse and went inside. Lukas waited a few minutes, then followed.
The interior was filled with shelves and crates containing various magical supplies. Crystals that glowed with inner light, herbs that smelled of ozone and earth magic, metal ingots that hummed with enchanted power. It was exactly the kind of place where a young noble might come looking for components to enhance his newly awakened abilities.
"Can I help you?"
Lukas turned to find Lydia watching him from behind a counter. Up close, she was even more striking—sharp green eyes, defined features, and an air of barely contained energy that made his skin tingle.
"I hope so," he said, putting on his most charming smile. "I'm Lukas Vain, from Thornwick. I recently awakened my fire magic and I'm looking for materials to help with my training."
"Fire magic?" Lydia's expression became more interested. "Newly awakened?"
"A few weeks ago. My tutor suggested I find some flame crystals to help with focus and control."
"We have those." She moved out from behind the counter, coming closer. "But if you just awakened, you might want to start with something simpler. Flame crystals can be... intense for beginners."
She was within arm's reach now. All he had to do was grab her wrist and **Plunder** would do the rest. But something made him hesitate. Maybe it was the way she carried herself, or the genuine helpfulness in her voice. For just a moment, she reminded him of someone from his old life.
*Sarah.*
The thought hit him like a physical blow. His fiancée from his previous life—the woman who'd tried to warn him about trusting the wrong people, who'd begged him not to reenlist for that final deployment.
He shook off the memory. Sarah was dead along with everything else from his old world. This was survival, nothing more.
"Actually," Lukas said, "I was hoping for something stronger. I learn quickly."
"Confident, aren't you?" Lydia smiled, but there was a warning in it. "Overconfidence kills young mages faster than anything else."
"So I've been told. But I'd rather push myself than play it safe."
She studied him for a moment, then nodded. "Flame crystals it is. But you're buying them at your own risk."
She turned to reach for a shelf behind her. The moment her back was turned, Lukas moved.
His hand shot out and grabbed her wrist.
**Plunder** exploded to life.
The effect was immediate and devastating. Lightning magic poured into him through the point of contact—raw, powerful electricity that made Garrett's fire magic feel like a candle next to a bonfire. But this time, **Plunder** was ready for it.
The stolen power flowed into channels that had been carved by his previous theft, settling into place like a key finding its lock. Knowledge followed—years of training, techniques for controlling and shaping lightning, the intimate understanding of how electrical energy moved through both body and world.
Lydia screamed.
Not the brief cry of someone in pain, but the sustained shriek of someone feeling their very essence being torn away. Lightning erupted from her body in uncontrolled bursts, shattering crystals and setting several crates on fire.
The power transfer took less than ten seconds. When it was over, Lydia collapsed to the floor, her eyes wide with shock and growing horror.
"What did you do to me?" she whispered.
Lukas flexed his fingers and watched small arcs of electricity dance between them. The lightning magic felt incredible—wild and powerful and completely under his control.
"I took what I needed," he said.
Lydia tried to summon her own lightning and failed. Tried again with the same result. The look on her face was heartbreaking—the exact moment when someone realizes they've lost the most important part of themselves.
"You... you're a monster."
"I'm a survivor."
She tried to scream for help, but Lukas was faster. His hand clamped over her mouth while electricity surged through his other palm, held just inches from her face.
"Here's what's going to happen," he said quietly. "You're going to tell everyone that you had a magical accident. Your power overloaded and burned out. It happens sometimes to mages who push themselves too hard."
Her eyes were wide with terror above his hand.
"If you tell anyone the truth—if you even hint that someone stole your magic—I'll come back and finish what I started. Do you understand?"
She nodded frantically.
"Good." He removed his hand from her mouth but kept the lightning ready. "You'll live, but you'll never use magic again. Consider yourself lucky."
Lukas stepped over her prone form and walked toward the door. Behind him, Lydia was already starting to sob—the deep, broken sound of someone mourning their own death.
He paused at the entrance. "Oh, and Lydia? Thank you for the lesson about overconfidence. You were right—it does kill young mages."
The last thing he heard as he left was her voice, barely more than a whisper: "Monster."
*Yes,* he thought as he walked back toward the inn. *I am.*
And for the first time since awakening in this world, he was completely fine with that.