The Ronan Empire Falls

The first time I noticed him, he was laughing. There was no joke being made, nor was there a crazy story being retold–this laughter had a tinge of malice to it, an ugly, sharp series of howls and taunts, the result of a type of humor that only went one way. The kind I ran into often, late at night, when a group of thugs had cornered their prey. 

Now, here in broad daylight, were another sort of thugs. A first-year kid stood frozen in front of the howling man, hands clenched at his sides. His robe was soaked, his books dripping with whatever spell had been flung at him. Around them, a few other students watched in uncomfortable silence, some pretending not to see, others too scared to step in.