[Prologue: Part 1]
Ragged breathing intermittent with bestial snarls broke the crisp air of the northern white night. A boy dressed in torn and bloodied shreds was charging down an alley on the outskirts of town, dead silent except for the 'things' that wanted to kill him.
From a second story rooftop, a ragged shadow vaguely resembling a wolf came hurling down at him, the boy didn't hesitate for a second.
"Gandr!" He chanted, half gasping for breath as he did so, calling up his prana reserves while aiming down the crevice of his index and middle fingers as if sights on a gun. With the speed of a lightning bolt, a series of glowing balls streaked from his fingertips into the body of his assailant, entering and then exiting into night sky trailing jet-black blood through an exit wound.
No time to waste. I've just lost momentum.
Pivoting sharply on his heel, he whirled around, taking just enough time to acquire the targets directly pursuing him and shouted the same spell. Another hail of pale blue spheres streaked through the ally, cleansing it of life nearly instantly.
A series of thuds as his assailants fell from either the shadows or the walls onto the moderately-lit cobblestones. About two meters tall, resembling starved men with wolf's heads and claws, he took a moment to inspect them as he waited for the magic-induced pain in his arm to subside.
Chomp.
His vision flickered red for a second and he gasped at a shooting pain travelling up the left side of his body.
One of the monsters had somehow gotten by him and now had him in a death-embrace. Both arms with pinned to his sides by a trio of claws through either bicep and the creature had sunk its fangs into his left shoulder. For all the factors he felt through the midst of the sharp pain, what he strangely focused on was the strange coolness of his own blood wetting his back.
Forcing his mind into the more fitting state of defense, he mentally projected his prana, setting off a chain reaction in the magic-infused blood which had just been spilled.
"Brennen."
In the fraction of the instant after being bitten, his blood erupted into white flames, melting the beast's claws and burning it to death from the inside out as the blood it so greedily ingested combusted as if napalm. Reeling, the familiar fell to the ground and convulsed for a few seconds before falling still. Breathing ragged from the pain, the boy slumped against the brick wall of the alley.
The assessment of his injuries wasn't good. Judging by the way the world was beginning to spin, he could tell he was in fairly bad shape in the blood-loss department. The adrenaline he felt was beginning to wear off and the full pain of his wounds was catching up to him now, too. And as a final kick in the head, while the blood-fire magic he used couldn't hurt him, it had burned away half his clothes and tonight it was snowing.
In spite of himself, he chuckled at the sheer stupidity of the situation.
Have I really come this far to die in a fucking alley?
He closed his eyes briefly and slumped against the brick wall, permitting himself a few seconds of rest before he moved on.
"Hey, kid?" A soft voice came just to his right.
There was a slight peeling sound as he rolled his blood-smeared head over the wall and opened his eyes to focus on the source of the sound. The image was blurred slightly as exsanguination was beginning to set in, but he could still see well enough to make out shapes.
A woman was standing in the entrance to the main street from the alley, illuminated by a haze of golden light in his own blurred vision. About the same height he was, with a slender figure, and raven-black hair.
She took a step forward. The injured boy instinctively raised his arm, readying the little magic he had left. Surprisingly, she hesitated, as if somehow sensing the feebly-mustered power in the half-dead figure.
"I'm not an enemy. It's alright." She said, raising both her arms slightly and stepping a bit closer.
Strangely trusting, or more likely from simple weakness, the boy lowered his arm, sensing no duplicity in her words and likely not able to do anything about it anyway in his injured state. The sound of footsteps resumed as she approached him again.
For some time now, the boy had been keeping himself standing by sheer will alone. Pure determination. A refusal to fall. His momentary trust was enough to break that will. His arms were lead and his skin was on fire. The world blurred into a spiral.
Trying to raise himself again, the boy tried to edge away and regain his composure, but his muscles were refusing to listen to him now. The woman was now directly in front of him. At this close range, he could see her features. Aqua-colored eyes, with fair skin. She was... beautiful. There was no other way to describe it.
I guess you're the angel of death... Was his last thought before passing out.