The fear in Godgrave was tangible, clinging to the stones like morning mist, but three men stalked through it with indifference. Their arrival always forced the crowd into a panicked nervous mass. They moved with predatory leisure and everyone on the street knew to look away. Except for the man in black thirty feet ahead, who moved with a singular, deliberate calm stride.
A whisper of a smile, sharp and humorless, tugged at the corner of his mouth. He took a sharp turn into a shadowy alleyway. The air immediately thickened with the cloying reek of stale piss and rot. It was a space so decrepit that even the city's vagrants gave it a wide berth.
The two men looked to their boss, awaiting confirmation. The paunchy man, pale and balding, nodded silently. The oblivious target had fallen for their trap. They turned into the alleyway and moved to block off the only exit. The slender man was waiting, looking as relaxed as a wealthy noble at a ball. The boss's brow furrowed. The way the target stood sent a shiver of cold doubt up his spine; he wasn't just idling, he was lying in wait.
Is he so foolish not to recognize the danger he's in? Our sources said he's wealthy, but only has a novice mastery of the elements. No matter. He'll be dead in the alley after we're through.
Should the criminals have looked a little closer, they might have noticed a few things that might have changed their mind. The man was standing with his hands in his pockets completely unprepared to make any handsigns. His stance was ready to move with his knees slightly bent as he kept all three assailants in his line of sight. His features were a blank canvas, his expression unreadable, yet his forest green eyes were cold, cunning, and merciless.
Do these mundane fools have no self-preservation? The persistent pestering is tiresome. Oh, look, they're finally attacking.
They moved forward as a pack to limit his movement not even considering the fact that he may fight back. He sighed and with terrifying speed appeared next to the thug on the far left. He firmly grasped the top of his head, seized the man's chin, and snapped his neck like a flimsy piece of kindling. The boss jumped back, eyes wide. His other goon froze in place, too shocked to speak.
"Boss, do we ru--"
The word died in his throat as the slender man landed a roundhouse kick into his sternum slamming him into the brick wall leaving a crater. A red haze dropped over the boss's vision, his breath coming out in ragged, hot gasps. The desire to hurt the man who had dismantled his subordinates clawed at his throat. He began weaving the signs for Earth Prison, then Fireball.
The ground under the man's feet liquefied and slid up to his ankles as ground him in place while the leader finished the hand signs for the ubiquitous Fireball. The man who until now had shown no emotion on his face looked down and started laughing uproariously. The boss stuttered for a second and then continued to try and finish his cast before the man could retaliate.
"An earth spell and fire spell… Do you really think such paltry magic will stop me? You should have brought another 20 men and maybe you could have made me shed a drop of blood."
The clearly deranged man took his hands out of his pocket and decided to throw caution to the wind. He was tired of pretending to be an average caster and not the awakened threat he really was.
"Let me show you what true magic looks like."
The struggling light in the alley faded completely. They were left in utter darkness and the criminal felt an insidious dread creeping up on him. He jumped and looked back, but there was nothing there. The last sane spark in his mind wondered whether he'd die without saying goodbye to his bastard son.
The Magi hadn't moved from his spot, hadn't made any hand signs. The sclera of his eyes blackened. Ominous wisps of crackling black energy were rising from his body as he finally let himself stop holding back.
The thug was frozen in place, tears of crimson blood falling from his eyes and ears, and his mouth formed a silent scream. He dropped to the floor dead.
The darkness faded as quickly as it came and the man's appearance returned to normal. He strolled out of the alleyway, whistling a merry tune. He took a sharp left at the main thoroughfare heading away from the ghastly scene he left in his wake. The adrenaline fading, all he could think about was how good it felt to unleash his true force on those dogs.
God fucking damn it. This is the third set of mundane fools who thought they could rob me. He adjusted his collar, and a brief, silent cast of water magic scoured the lingering blood from his jacket, leaving him immaculate. Only the leader had any aptitude for casting and he still uses hand signs like a first year. None of them had enough presence to even pose a challenge to me.
Presence was the term given to an individual who had successfully awakened their dormant powers, claimed a unique facet, and were branded with a true name by Fate. What those thugs -- and the majority of society -- didn't know was that elemental casting was the weakest form of magic available, but it was the only form that didn't require the caster to have a presence.
The aristocracy and the world powers have schemed for generations to maintain the status quo and keep the secret of awakening under lock and key, he mused. They feared the chaos of a mass uprising if the populace realized the power they could bring to bear. The telltale sign of a Magi, besides the aura their presence gave off unmasked, was unnatural colored eyes -- a trait his abnormal green irises always threatened to betray.
He shuddered at the thought of being spotted as a Magi and dragged off whatever dark corner of hell the nobility reserved for rogue Magi.Sometimes he considered shouting it from the rooftops and unleashing Pandora's jar. The last time someone tried that deterred him from even attempting it.
The ex-nation of Egalite had tried to reveal the secret to their populace, misguidedly aiming to assemble an army of Magi warriors. What they hadn't considered was the threat their plans posed to their neighbors. The not so friendly neighbouring nations immediately set aside all their rivalries, uniting to utterly annihilate the kingdom and every last citizen. Every man, woman, and child was reduced to ash. Not even the wildlife was spared as widespread desolation ravaged the landscape. The haunted land served as a constant reminder of what happens to those who try to break the unspoken rule of the continent.
At this rate, I'll end up cleaning the streets like some attention-seeking hero, he concluded bitterly. He really needed to figure out how to better hide his presence while still giving off enough killing intent to keep these wastes of space away.
His name was Lyst and he had awakened the facet of [Dread] and received the true name, Fate's Bane.