The Vitalis Chronicles: Tomb of the Relequim by Jay Swanson

was completely lucid. He could see it in the boy's eyes. He had seen that look before, but always behind the various masks of madness. Never through the crisp clarity of sane volition. The murderous intent was practically glistening.

    Ardin stepped into the room, fire breaking out wherever he went. The patients fled to the walls, screaming that a demon had entered their midst. Hell had finally come for them. One took the time to run up to the fat doctor and scream that he had warned her. He had told her the Demon was hunting him!
    But Ardin was after no souls. He took a moment's pleasure in their terror. Something piqued at his heart. Something was trying to steal the moment from him. He shook it off. He wouldn't let it. He wanted to enjoy their fear. Soak it up, fill himself with the recognition of his power.
    He walked through the room, flames spreading across the floor as he made for the exit. No one moved to stop him, all trying to escape like rats from a sinking barge. Insignificant . The word came to his mind as he ignored the plight of those around him.
    He stopped at the center of the main hall and raised his hands. The temperature in the room peaked as his fingers reached their apex above his head. The floor was turning black, a mixture of soot, blood, and the onset of death. Ash swirled around him, mixing with the white mist as the heat gently brushed his skin. He closed his eyes, breathing deeply as the last of the screams fell silent. He thought of the wraith in the darkness, the ghosts of his guilt and despair manifest in one form. He had destroyed it with light and with heat – and he would do the same to these wretches.
    The roof dripped and dropped and crashed around him as the screams died or were drowned out by the roar of the flames. He flexed every muscle in his body, feeling the ripples in the Atmosphere as it was bent to his will. He relaxed, and walked through the heat towards the ruins of the exit.
    Ardin stepped out into the dusk as it fell on the foothills, the remote asylum engulfed in flames behind him. He smiled, though somehow the action made him feel sick. He turned and walked north into the mountains. To find freedom. To meet Tristram.

F IVE
     
    “ D EVASTATION DOESN'T EVEN BEGIN TO COVER WHAT HE'S WROUGHT .”
    “ It is disappointing, yes.”
    “ He killed them all, Tristram. He has shown an utter lack of discernment.”
    “ He remains yet a boy.”
    “ A boy with a great burden on his shoulders, brother.”
    “ These were but the leavings of the Demon's attempts to corrupt mankind, Oscilian. Animals in their own right.”
    “ I will not suffer you to think as they do.”
    “ Forgive me, brother. I do not dare to tread that path. But as I said, many of the inmates and even those who labored there were under the influence of the enemy. One could say what they received was well deserved. “
    “ That is not for us to decide, you know this. It has never been our place to judge. What do any of us deserve in the end? After this show of force... I'm no longer certain we can rely on him.”
    “ What choice is left to us?”
    “ There is always a choice, Tristram. Always. We can take these matters into our own hands.”
    “ You know that not to be true. Think of how history transpired. The odds were against us last time. And for that battle we had the Magi in their full glory.”
    “ We are stronger now. The enemy is weaker. Things have changed.”
    “ Things have indeed changed, brother. But they have not changed in our favor.”

    A RDIN CONTINUED TO STUMBLE ALONG THE DARK ROAD . So far it had led him well away from the smoldering remains of the asylum. His hunger had caught up with him again and now he fled more slowly into the night. He no longer escaped his confinement so much as the carnage he had wrought.
    His shoulder was aching too, the dull pain growing to a steady burn. The loose gown he wore had barely been touched by the swirling embers and heat of the fire. But there was