And all I had wanted was a drink.

I have many reasons to want to find a quiet corner of a public house and rest my weariness, drink away what worries I had. My brother and I had, after some time of him kidnapping me, laughing with me, threatening me, reconnecting me with my family, holding me prisoner for a few days, discovering my daughter and in a farcical manner becoming engaged to her, come to an understanding of mutual respect. I would work with him, researching what was the impending apocalypse for his benefit and he would keep up the pretense of an alliance with the being who had ruined my life so that in the future we could destroy him; Morté, the ‘King of Death’ and ruler of the underworld, Rahl.

Now I had Morté's long-supposed daughter, who was biologically mine and his wife Sephora’s child (now there had been a glorious affair), living with me. When she had asked to move in to my small apartment that was more or less a glorified library, I could not say no. It was the same day, after all, that our genetic connection had been certified. Yet she was in my living room, sleeping on my sofa, and had gotten into the habit of making tea very late at night so all I could hear was the whistling of the kettle - sometimes constantly, the sound echoing as a haunting reminder. Thus, I had finally stalked, muttering, from the apartment that evening, telling her I might be back in a day or an hour, who knew. I hired a horse from the local inn, and set off at a high gallop from the marvellous wonder that is the city-on-an-island, Tor Elythis, riding across the five league bridge to head for the closest, quiet town. All in the hope of getting a moment of quiet and a simple drink.

How wrong had I been.

Apparently getting a simple drink was far too difficult. For it had only been a few minutes of me nursing my beer at the corner of the room when a rough adolescent high elf had bundled over to me and prodded the air around my horns.

“Oi, you,” he growled, in a rural, rough tone I never connected to posh elven society in which I lived. “We no like yet kind here, dirty demon.”

My brow rose at that, and my eyes flicked up to where he was indicating - the two horns that curled from my temples and went back along my head. They were the same pale colour as my skin, but hardened like stone. Slowly I blinked as my weary, slightly blurred mind remembered that I looked like a tiefling, and that for some half-demons weren't that favoured.

“Actually, that's rather an interesting topic for discussion,” I grunted, my eyes moving and settling on him. I leant heavily on the table before me. “But, forgive me, you lack something of the holding or stature of the being who would comprehend the complexity of my narration.”

The teenager took a moment for the cogs of his dumb mind to whir and connect. I had not spoken in massively complicated words, but I had deliberately chosen ones that might not be understandable for an elf half dulled in his wits by alcohol. And one who was already an idiot.

Then he suddenly realised what I meant and his brow furrowed. “You … you … OI!”

Slightly I smiled as I picked up my mug of beer, watching the angry light begin to come into his eyes. I straightened, knowing it was a good time to finish what was left of my drink and head out. All I had wanted to do was be left alone, and it was he who had come up to me.

“You-you’m just called meh and idiot!”

“Not quite,” I shook my head as I threw back the rest of my beer. “But, you said I was not welcome. So. Goodbye and thank you for the short acquaintance.”

I rolled back my shoulders and set the tankard on the table. Moving around it I aimed to go around the long way; easing past him would not have been simple, or smart. And I was smart - far too so apparently for this town. Slowly, I took my first step.

“Eh no way,” the teenager elf said, swiftly moving back and blocking my path with a broad shouldered body. “You’m not going anywhere.”

“Actually I think it is time for me to go,” I looked him squarely in the eye. “You made it clear that I am not welcome and I seem to have finished my drink. So …”

I shrugged and began to move back the other way, of original blockage.

“You think yer so smar’ eh?” I cringed, inwardly. No, I knew I was smart. It really was - is - the one thing I know as a constant. He stomped back around and shoved a hand against my shoulder. Relaxed, I let it swing back as he did so. “Just yapping on with big words when naebody wants a demon like yeh.”

“Please, let me past,” I said, looking at him now directly on the eyes. “I've paid, and I'm leaving, like you wish.”

“No, I dinnae wish you tae leave the bar, I wan’ yeh to leave our country. Go back to your own, rodent.”

Thankfully I was used to being called names - 'barbarian’ and 'rogue’ mostly - and so I simply blinked as I pointed at the door in response. “There is my country, thank you. Now, let me pass.”

And I sucked in my breath and summoned my supernatural strength. Lifting up my hands I made what became one of the most ridiculous mistakes of my life, and shoved hard against his chest.

He stumbled back, eyes wide. As he did he let out a rippling scream.

“BOYS!!!”

And it was then I knew I had been the stupid one.

Immediately from behind hands grabbed me. My fighting instincts took over, and I whirled hands to my shoulder where one held me, fixing my fingers about his forearm. Tightening the hold I swung him around, up and over my shoulder as the second grappled my arms. Swinging back an elbow I attempted to catch the second in the gut as my first assailant was thrown to the floor before me. I heard a grunt as my elbow made an impact, and then I was whirling, hands curling into fists.

They began to glow with a deep black, like night. My eyes grew dark, my face stern, and I counted two more incoming. I threw a steady punch, socking one in the jaw. It crunched hard, the black glow about my hands sparked as I grinned and stepped back, onto my first victim. As he let out a groan, the one I had initially elbowed was getting back up and the fourth was nearing me. Quickly I kicked out, and it knocked over the table I had been at. This gave me more space - I could dodge the punch that was flying at my face and then kick the balls of the elbowed one. He fell, I just had the newest, fresh-faced one and we squared off against each other, fists raised. I jumped back, he leant forwards, swinging back his arm and I found I forgot.

Forgot the first adolescent, their leader, whom I stumbled into the waiting arms off. As I attempted to dodge a blow, he grabbed me from behind. It was short, it was sudden, but it was quick enough to catch me off guard. A smack landed across my face, and I was sent reeling back against the bar. People jeered, glass shattered, the breath rushed out of my lungs. I knew fast - I had to act fast, and I did. Slowly I began to get up to throw my arm, but …

Two arms grabbed my shoulders. They began to drag me and I scowled heavily, and struggled half-heartedly. I caught eyes briefly with the first teenager who beamed as I aimed to kick up, but my dragging was very briefly over - instead I was thrown. Strangely strongly.

The bar upsurged into uproar as I was flung right through the window. It shattered into many pieces, and the black energy around my hands banished itself - herself - and I hit a wall hard.