100.

  But I hadn't completely left my former life behind.

  As darkness fully fell and the new moon rose, the whispers began. Drugged up in the hospital, my nights had been oblivion, more unconsciousness than sleep, but as I was weaned off the medication, the nightmares began. My nights were filled with visions of specters, eyeless silhouettes, wraiths, blood, and horror. My days were filled with the omnipresent whispering, always at the corners of my hearing, sometimes just behind my ears, but always there.

  I'd gotten good at ignoring them. Sometimes I could even tell myself they disappeared, but when the night was darkest, they returned. You see, I may have left the Gutter Mage behind, but I had been seen, and no amount of simple want or wishing could reverse that.

  I jogged up the steps to my flat and then paused outside my door. I looked up and down the empty corridor, put my key in the lock, and then placed my palm flat at the centre of the door and waited. There was a buzz of energy that suddenly dissipated. I turned the key, unlocked the door, and walked in, slamming it shut behind me, and the whispers vanished. I breathed deeply and then, as I did every night, checked the seal on the door. Carved into the back of it was the Rune of Awareness the Pigeon King had taught me. It was carved as big as I could fit onto the back of the door.

  All the lights were on in the flat; they always were. I couldn't abide darkness anymore. Things lived in the darkness, and they would never let me be. Just knowing that there was darkness anywhere near me sent the hairs on the back of my neck up and a cold sweat down my brow. I traced my finger lightly against the wall as I walked towards my bedroom door. The whole place buzzed with energy, and unconsciously, I traced my eyes over all the sigils and runes carved into doors and architraves.

  When I first arrived back from the hospital, the whispers, the nightmares and the constant gnawing fear had almost driven me insane. I'd stayed up night after night carving, drawing, and etching. And it wasn't just the Rune of Awareness; it was anything that I could muster or imagine to protect myself from the thing that followed me, from the nightmares that haunted my dreams, and the whispers that plagued my days.

  I swallowed and placed my palm flat on my bedroom door and waited for the sealing charm to deactivate before opening it. I practically leaped into my room and slammed the door shut behind me, locking the seven new deadbolts I had put on it. Only now that I was in my room did I let out a deep, deep breath of relief. I was safe. My flat was protected, and my room had become a magical bomb shelter. It's amazing what someone can achieve in the dead hours of the night when sleep was too fearful to come.

  Even though I felt safe in my room, I had to admit it must have looked like the den of a madman. I had etched sigils and drawn runes on almost every square inch of my walls, my ineptitude and my inexperience was bolstered with manic fervour. I protected the place as best as I knew, and when I ran out of ideas, I went back to the Codex. I'd been in a frenzy after more than three nights with barely any sleep. I tore the book open, lit the candle, turned the lights off, and begged for its help. It had divulged its power to me and taught me how to protect myself at night, how to ward my room so that those things couldn't enter, so the whispers couldn't follow, and so that even a human being would struggle to get in here without my permission. It was the only place in the whole world where I felt safe from the thing that had seen me.

  I sighed and stretched my neck before sitting down on my bed and picking up a cold bowl of noodles I'd started that morning. I ate mechanically, not even tasting the cold mush. Once I finished off the bowl, I let out a small greasy belch and then looked around.

  I quickly realised after returning from the hospital that I couldn't simply give up the Craft. It wasn't even about the need to protect myself; it was just the sheer pleasure of learning and exploring. After all, I didn't have very much else in my life. The Craft was the one thing that filled the void. I kept up my studies without my nightly escapades and the violence and damage that came from them. I found myself with a lot more time, mental space, and energy to explore further. I was almost sure that the Codex was safe. As long as I used it in my room, there was no way that thing could get to me. The Codex had taught me how to layer protective Runes and safeguard myself both physically and mentally, which allowed me to keep learning.

  This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.

  Whereas before I felt exhausted just reading a page or two of the book, now I could read for nearly an hour before my energy wells ran dry and I fell into a fitful sleep. But in that time, I had learned…. Well, actually, I realised how little I had learned. All this time fumbling around in the dark with the odd Rune here and there had been as simple as a child first learning the letters of the alphabet. Although I still wasn't much further than I had been, at least I was now aware of how little I knew. Despite having no intention to take to the rooftops again and haunt the night as the Gutter Mage, I still kept crafting. After all, how else would I put into practice the things I’d been learning?

  I looked around the room. It was half madman's cave, half insane inventor's workshop. There were all sorts of tools, materials, metals, bits of wood, and fabric strewn all around. Sometimes I could barely move in my room because of the amount of junk I was accumulating. It was only my rapidly depleting funds that stopped me from filling the entire flat. Despite numerous failures, I had some successes in creating new gadgets and new core Runes that I would never really use. It gave me something to do, occupied my mind, and staved off the loneliness of long nights in the flat by myself. It also helped me put off the reality that eventually I would have to find a real job and start doing something with my life. But for now, I could tinker in the darkness, hide in my little hole, and pretend that I was doing something worthwhile.

  I stretched my fingers and shook out my numb left hand before settling down with the heavy pair of boots I'd been working on.Learning the Craft was like following the branches of a tree. You couldn't simply dart from one branch to another; you'd never work your way up the tree. So, I explored the Runes that I understood. The one I knew the best was obviously the Explosion Rune. I had read, explored, asked questions, and received vague, cryptic answers. Although the book spoke to me less and less now, it seemed more like a store of knowledge rather than an active entity as it once had been. But I found that the Explosion Rune had many offshoots, much more subtle than just causing explosions. The one that I was currently obsessed with was, to my understanding, some sort of kinetic shockwave Rune. Where the Explosion Rune was all about, well, exploding, this new Rune seemed to displace rather than destroy. It had been fun trying it out. I was able to blow ping pong balls around my room with just a tap from the Rune.

  As my mind wandered and possibilities opened up in front of me, I obviously moved towards creating jet boots. You see, the Shockwave Rune, as I named it, seemed perfect for propulsion. Whereas the Explosion Rune would destroy anything it touched, the Shockwave Rune seemed to push things away instead. So, there wasn't much of a logical leap to think that if the thing you were pushing against couldn't move, such as the Earth, then the thing doing the pushing would have to move. That was science, right?

  Once I got that idea into my head, there was no way I couldn't try and create jetpack boots. While I was carving them into the soles of the boots, I pictured myself being propelled over tall buildings in one leap. Of course, it hadn't quite worked that way, and so far I'd done little more than bounce off the floor, most of the time not even as high as I could jump. Although once I almost got it right, but I overdid it and ended up cracking my head into my own ceiling, where there was still a visible dent as proof of concept.

  Then, of course, there was also the Sunlight Rune that I'd stumbled upon almost accidentally, and I nearly blinded myself in the process. I was hesitant to practice or mess around with that Rune after that, and once I had a little bit of money, I would definitely buy some heavy-duty blackout goggles before trying it again. I'd also experimented with carving the Zap Rune into pellets, and that actually worked quite well. I had burns on my arms from testing it as proof, but all of this was just to test out the new knowledge I had. I didn't know what else to do with it other than create gadgets, bits of armour, and upgrade gear that I would never wear again. But, like I said, it was just something to do, and that's what I did for the next hour or so. I etched Runes, studied my journals, and tried to figure out what mediums the Shockwave Rune would work best in. I had six different pairs of boots I'd scrounged from the homeless shelter to try them on, all with different soles and textures, and that kept me busy for most of the night. I was happy tinkering away, feeling the buzz of energy from all the Runes around me, protecting me and keeping me safe. There were worse ways to spend a Friday night.

  Then I looked up at the clock sharply and realised it was Friday night. I needed to get the tributes out. Hastily, I put down the boots I'd been working on and stumbled over various bits of debris lying about my room, cursing as I stepped on a roll of copper that jabbed me in the bone of my foot. I stopped at the bathroom to take my next round of antibiotics to keep infection away. Of course, I hadn't bought these from the doctors; I bought them on the streets because they were cheaper, so I wasn't quite sure how long or how many I was supposed to be taking. But so far, well, I hadn't got an infection, and the hospital hadn't come knocking, looking for payment, so I guess I would just keep going the way I am. I ran to the kitchen, grabbed two cans of tuna and a pack of donuts before pulling on my coat and trainers, and then sneaked out of my window to go and pay tribute.