Not a minute had passed since my fight with the gang leader ended when a cold shiver ran down my spine.
It wasn't the usual shiver of fear I felt in The Bottom. It was the sensation of being watched by something... dangerous.
"Good move, puppy."
The voice came from behind a pile of burning tires.
I spun around instantly, pointing the broken blade toward the sound.
An old man stepped out of the shadows. He wore tattered rags that reeked of cheap alcohol. His eyes were closed, and a jagged scar ran across his eyelids, indicating he was completely blind. He leaned heavily on a worn-out wooden cane.
"Who are you?" I asked, my body taut as a bowstring. "If you want the sword, come and take it."
The old man laughed, a raspy sound like sandpaper rubbing against stone.
"A sword? I don't care about that piece of scrap. I'm interested in you... and the 'Hunger' surrounding you."
Before I could process what was happening, the old man moved.
I didn't see him run. He literally "slid" across the mud. In the blink of an eye, he was right in front of me.
I tried to stab him with the right blade (Fang).
THWACK!
The old man tapped my wrist with his wooden cane. It was a light tap, yet I felt a shock of electricity shoot up my arm, forcing my fingers to spasm and drop the blade.
I gritted my teeth and swung with the left blade (Claw).
THWACK!
Another tap, this time behind my knee. My leg buckled, and I fell face-first into the mud.
"Slow. Noisy. And full of openings."
The old man said, poking the back of my head with his cane.
"You have a killer's instinct, that's true. And you have a rare and disgusting magical ability... but you fight like an angry peasant. If you climb up to face the Royal Knights with this style, they'll cut your head off before you even scratch their armor."
I lifted my head, spitting mud from my mouth. Rage boiled inside me, but my mind remained cold.
This old man... was strong. Too strong for a beggar in The Bottom.
"Who are you?" I repeated my question, wiping the dirt from my eyes.
"My name is Garrick. I was once trash like you, then I became a nightmare for the nobles, and now I'm back to being trash."
Garrick squatted in front of me, the smell of booze wafting from his breath.
"I heard you scream at the sky earlier. You said you wanted to tear it down. Big words for a kid wearing torn underwear."
He pointed a bony finger at my chest.
"Your magic... [Absorption]... is a double-edged sword. If you don't learn how to hide it, high-ranking mages will sense you from a mile away. Right now, you are like a black torch in a white room. Too obvious."
I looked at him. His words struck a nerve. I knew I was weak. My victory against the gang leader was luck and surprise.
"Can you... teach me?"
Garrick grinned, revealing yellow teeth.
"Teaching isn't free, kid. The price of my training is very high."
"I have no money."
"I don't want money." He pulled an empty bottle from his pocket and shook it. "I want you to steal 'Moon Wine' for me from the guard's warehouse near the Great Elevator. Every day. For four years."
Moon Wine? That drink was reserved for officers only. Stealing it meant immediate execution if caught.
I looked at the two broken blades lying in the mud. Then I looked up at the grey sky.
I remembered Prince Valious's cold, empty smile.
I stood up on my trembling legs.
"I'll bring you the whole cellar."
Garrick let out a satisfied cackle and turned around, tapping his cane as he walked away.
"Don't die on the first day, puppy. Class starts at midnight."