SHADOWS OF LEGACY, THE CLOVER MAGE'S RECKONING.

Chapter 4:

His men doubled over, cackling. One of them had to let go of the girl to hold his stomach, he was laughing so hard. The girl stumbled but caught herself against the wall, forgotten.

Someone in the crowd muttered.

 "Does that kid want to kill himself?"

Another voice, from a different direction:

 "Does he even know who he's messing with? That's Garrett. Head of security."

"The boss's right-hand man."

"Kid's dead. He just doesn't know it yet."

The whispers spread like ripples in water, moving through the crowd. But Thorne didn't seem to hear them. His eyes stayed locked on Garrett, unblinking.

Garrett made another gesture, this time clutching his chest and staggering backward dramatically, like he'd been stabbed.

 "Oh no!" 

He wailed in that same mocking tone. 

"My family is dead! Whatever shall I do? I know,I'll work in a mine for the rest of my miserable life, just like my murdering father deserved!"

His men were practically crying with laughter now. Even some people in the crowd chuckled uncomfortably, not wanting to draw Garrett's attention by remaining silent.

Thorne let the words wash over him. Let them soak in. He'd heard worse. Lived through worse. Ten years of this. Ten years of whispers and accusations and blame for crimes he didn't commit.

But something in his chest,something he'd kept buried and locked away for a decade,began to crack.

His voice cut through the laughter like a knife through silk. Quiet but sharp. Clear.

"At least I'm not a shit hole like you."

The laughter stopped.

Completely. Like someone had snuffed out a candle.

Garrett's smile vanished. He blinked once, twice, like he couldn't quite believe what he'd just heard. His face went through several expressions in rapid succession,confusion, disbelief, then slowly darkening into rage.

"What did you just call me?"

The crowd had gone dead silent. Even the torches seemed to burn quieter.

Thorne didn't look away. Didn't blink. His voice stayed level, emotionless.

 "You heard me. Shit hole."

For a heartbeat, nobody moved.

Then Garrett's face twisted into something ugly. 

 "You little…"

The punch came fast,a wild haymaker aimed directly at Thorne's jaw, all of Garrett's weight behind it.

But Thorne was faster.

He'd spent ten years in these mines. Ten years where a moment's hesitation meant a cave-in crushing you, or a foreman's whip catching your back, or another prisoner's shank finding your ribs in the dark. His body had learned to move before his mind finished thinking.

He ducked.

The fist whooshed past his ear, so close he felt the wind of it. Heard the whistle. Garrett's momentum carried him forward, off-balance.

Thorne didn't think. His body just moved. He pivoted on his back foot, dropped his shoulder, and drove it into Garrett's exposed midsection with everything he had.

The air left Garrett's lungs in an explosive ‘whoosh’. 

He staggered backward, arms windmilling as he gasped. His back hit the cavern wall with a meaty thud, and he slid down slightly before catching himself.

The crowd gasped. Someone said.

 "Holy shit."

Garrett's face had gone red, then purple. He wheezed, trying to suck air back into his lungs. His eyes watered. For a moment,just a moment,he looked less like the fearsome head of security and more like what he was: a bully who'd been hit back for the first time.

Then his hand went to his belt.

"You think you're tough?" 

He rasped, his voice strained. His fingers fumbled with a pouch on his hip, finally managing to yank it open.

 "You think you're strong? You think you can fight?"

He pulled out a small, leather-bound book. The cover was cracked and worn, the leather darkened with age and use. But the symbol embossed on the front,a rune Thorne didn't recognize,began to glow with a faint, sickly green light.

The crowd gasped again. This time louder. Several people stepped back quickly, creating more space.

"That's his grimoire." 

Someone whispered urgently.

 "He's going to use magic."

"The kid's done for."

"Someone should stop this before…"

"Are you crazy? Garrett will turn on anyone who interferes."

Garrett straightened, still breathing hard but grinning now. The grimoire pulsed in his hand, the light growing brighter. Pages rustled as if moved by an invisible wind, flipping open to reveal dense text and complex diagrams.

"I heard you haven't acquired a grimoire yet." 

Garrett said, his voice steadying. Growing stronger. More confident. 

"You're just a regular nobody. No magic. No power. Nothing."

He slammed his palm against one of the open pages. The rune on the cover flared brilliant green, and the ground beneath Thorne's feet trembled. Small pebbles scattered. Dust rose from the cracks between stones.

"So allow me." 

Garrett said, his grin turning savage.

“To introduce you to mine."

The floor exploded.

Chunks of rock,some the size of fists, others bigger,tore themselves free from the ground with grinding, tearing sounds. They hung suspended in the air for a split second, defying gravity, each one glowing with that same sickly green light.

Then they all turned to point at Thorne.

"Earth Magic: Stone Barrage!"

The rocks launched forward like arrows from a bow.

Thorne threw himself to the side. The first stone whistled past his head, missing by inches. It smashed into the wall behind him with tremendous force, punching a hole through the solid rock. Dust exploded into the air in a choking cloud.

He rolled, came up in a crouch, then had to throw himself flat as another rock sailed over him. This one hit a support beam, sending splinters flying. The beam groaned but held.

"Stay still!" 

Garrett roared. His face was red with effort and rage. He thrust his hand forward, fingers splayed, and three more stones ripped themselves free from the ground. They hovered for a moment, then shot toward Thorne in rapid succession.

The crowd scattered. Tables overturned as people dove for cover. Mugs and plates shattered on the floor, spilling ale and food. Someone screamed. Someone else was shouting for people to get back, to give them space.

Thorne scrambled behind an overturned table, pressing himself against it. The first stone punched through the thick wood like it was paper. The table exploded in a shower of splinters. Thorne felt something cut his cheek, hot and stinging.

The second stone hit the bench next to him. The bench didn't just break,it shattered, reduced to kindling in an instant.

The third…

Thorne's hand closed around a broken table leg, still connected to part of the tabletop. Without thinking, he swung it like a bat.

The wood connected with the stone mid-flight. The impact jarred his arms, sending pain shooting up to his shoulders. But the stone's trajectory changed. It careened wildly upward, spinning, and slammed into the cavern ceiling.

The explosion of rock and dust rained down on everyone. Someone in the crowd yelped as debris hit them.

"Stop running, coward!" 

Garrett's voice echoed through the hall. He was sweating now, his grimoire shaking in his hands. The pages flipped rapidly, and he slapped his palm down on another section…