Of Shadow, Shine, and Shades

Ch.16 Shadowed Thoughts

The crispness of the night air failed to touch Caelum as he prowled the streets of Alexandria. His magic was swirling right beyond his shields and he knew without looking that his eyes were glowing with it. One word had been enough to send him out on the streets that only the stars and the waning crescent's light illuminated.

The idea of killing sixteen men should have horrified him, the mage knew. But the idea was fuel to the abyss of shadows he had collected in the deepest corners of his mind. They demanded blood now that his more noble side had found a way to justify killing these men. More blood would stain his hands but he found it very difficult to care. He was teetering on the brink of something very familiar and found it almost easy to let go. The darkness surrounded his thoughts.

The midnight was drawing closer and the lights on the windows cast shadows on the streets. They played around his feet but there was no true sustenance to these shadows. They had no life, unlike the darkest shadows licking at the edges of his thoughts.

There was a light on the window of his destination. A shady, dirty light that reflected the state of the house's atmosphere. Loud noises could be heard all the way to the street through the pitiful flap that acted the role of a door. He did not know the words but he could recognize anger and fear in the men's tone of voice. They had lost their slave and they feared for their secret - emotions ran high.

The claymore he'd relieved from the Black vault jumped to his hand. His shadows demanded blood, and blood they would get. He wanted no magical law enforcement after him so it was better for the Muggles to dub this as a the gruesome killing spree it truly was rather than a series of unexplainable deaths that the Killing Curse would make it look like.

He paused behind the fabric. Four men. He only knew the faces so hearing their voices did not help. Stepping into the room his magic automatically put up a privacy ward. All noise cut off in the inside as the four men stared at the stranger with a sword that had walked right into their midst.

One. Two. Three. Four. Twelve left.

His body fell into the familiar stance the goblins had drilled his muscles to accept. The sword's magic stayed docile as he forced his own to stay behind his shields. His blazing green eyes scanned the room for any movement and when finally one of the men opened his mouth, the mage moved.

The claymore flashed in the light of the oil lamp and blood sprayed over the three alive members of the quartet. The dead man gurgled, his hands going to his stomach where his intestines where falling on the dirty floor. The fingers slipped over the bloody organs and his knees gave out. The look of astonishment would be forever carved on his dead features.

The blazing green eyes turned on the remaining men, their power already ripping into their minds looking for the location of the remaining victims. A sadistic smile curved on his lips as the dark killer found what he was looking for and let his grip on the victims' minds loosen. The sword flashed again and a decapitated head smacked against the once white wall.

The screaming began.

The two remaining men tried to get away only for the first one to fall to a stab in the back. Caelum weighed the weapon in his hand. It fit himsurprisingly well and responded to him immediately. Sometimes it took a while for a magical weapon to accept its new master but he was a Black and the sword was forged for them. It had slept in the vault, waiting for a time it would be used again. A sword was used for killing humans, not to hunt animals. This sword had slept and calmed its bloodlust but now it had awoken. It was a perfect weapon for killing. Even if he did specialize in staffs.

The last man had reached kitchen before Caelum caught up with him. He was grovelling on the ground, begging in Arabic, tears streaming down his face. The wizard wanted to wish him well in Hell but kept his mouth shut and thrust the sword through the blackened heart. On his way out of the house he dispelled the conjuration of the bottle. No one would know magic had been involved.