It was midnight.

The halls of the academy were normally quiet at this time, save for the studious or the insomniac that aimlessly wandered the silent corridors or carried out further study and research. Tonight, however, felt different. The normal, tranquil air usually permeating the repossessed castle had taken on a distinctly eerie feel. The nightwalkers scurried fearfully in pairs, uncertain about the strange atmosphere but quite wisely not casting their concern aside as foolishness as many of the Mundanes were doing.
Deep in the labyrinthian halls, tucked away in a corner of one of the extensive libraries, Q'it Ikuz glanced up unconcernedly from the grimoire he had until then been engrossed in. The faint blue glow of the runic symbols emanating off the page faintly illuminated his soft, almost white skin. "About time," he said, a small smirk tugging up one corner of his thin lipped mouth.


It was midnight.

The sky was a dark, velvety blue-purple, almost but not quite black. Much like the night shaded robes of her royal spoilt brat highness Princess Sianha. This rather large night robe was not setting off any burnished golden hair or sparkling baby blue eyes, however. They just provided a beautiful backdrop for the cold sparkle of the myriad of stars. And The Moon.
No one in their right mind would have been out at this time of night. Especially not tonight. Especially not tonight at midnight. Anyone - or anything - who did happen to be out at this time of night on this particular night, if they had chanced to look up at a particular moment, would have seen silhouetted against the moon a small, lithe, human shaped figure springing neatly, agiley from roof to roof, the shadowy, slender Earthbound body standing out in stark contrast against the ponderous, round, shining Heavenly one.
With the grace of one with many years of practice, the shadow slid cleanly to a soundless halt on the very slightly curved rooftop. Tiyane loved the roofs of these rich houses, curved enough to prevent water from collecting on it, flat enough so a skilled thief could easily keep footing even in the most treacherous weather. There was nothing treacherous about the weather on this night. It was as clear as clear could possibly get.
There was a slight crackling in the air. There was a slight crackling in the air. One of her ears flicked towards it. Otherwise unperturbed, she turned her head, her hand imperceptibily creeping to rest on the handle of the small crossbow hanging from her belt.
"About time," a disembodied voice said. She blinked, and spied the tall, platinum headed young man decked in blue and black robes, looking quite comfortable behind a very good sized mahogany table piled high with books. One lay open before him, the source of a faint blue light that cast the pale reflections of runes on his face.
"Bad moon," the girl commented, pointing skyward for emphasis.
The platinum haired man smiled, resting his chin on one hand. "I am aware of it."
Tiyane straightened, her hand not leaving the handle of her crossbow, and turned to fully face the man. "Should we be worried?" By her tone it sounded like she wouldn't be worried even if such a time came around that she should be.
The man frowned in response. "There isn't a mage alive who could cast a bad moon when it's not full."
"Heh," a cold smile passed across Tiyane's features, "looks like there might be."


It was a little past midnight.

J'raal smirked mirthlessly at the unsmiling moon. Ocasionally the air around him crackled with remnants of energy, some of it even sparking a little bit. Automatically the back of his hand brushed across his brow to wipe away sweat that wasn't there. Old habits died hard. Apparently. His smile widened into a pained grimace. Agony shot through his limp muscles as he struggled to raise his staff into an upright position. It was amazing how the lightweight, well constructed bone staff felt as heavy and unwieldy as a makeshift cudgel in his current situation.
His body screamed in protest as he hauled what weight he had to his unsteady feet, leaning very heavily on the staff. With something best described as bored annoyance, he brushed stray strands of his ebony hair over his shoulder, where it blended with his thick, dark ponytail, dangling limply down the middle of his back. Under normal circumstances he would have been asleep for quite a few days at best, dead somewhere in the middle ground and completely insane at worst.
He hadn't been in normal circumstances for a while.


The heavy scent of musk overwhelmed the clean, crisp scent of the night air, accompanied shortly afterwards by the gentle clink of metal on metal. Not much later he could hear the rustle of fine silk. Wearily, J'raal raised his head. Even that simple movement was a monumental effort. Laenor smiled coldly at him, her dark purple lips a stark contrast to her milky skin.
"You have done well." Her voice was low and throaty, sultry and threatening. J'raal, lacking the energy to do anything else, elected to remain motionless where he was, concentrating on regaining his strength. She stepped closer, the scent of her coming very close to overpowering his senses and knocking him over. J'raal astutely kept his mind on maintaining his wavering balance.
Her cold, ivory fingers caressed his cheek lightly. He nearly lost his footing as a jolt of electricity passed between them, sending a shudder through his wracked body.
"Poor J'raal," her voice was lighter, mocking, "you must be exhausted after your efforts. You deserve a rest." She raised a hand, the light silken sleeve sliding gracefully back to reveal an elegant, slender arm. Tracing patterns in the air, she murmured under her breath. A dark mist tainted the air just off Laenor's fingertips. Gradually raising her arm in a vertical upward motion, she sent the mist upwards. As it rose it billowed and spread, slowly assuming the dark, winged form of a dragon. The cloud solidified into the beast as it alighted surprisingly lightly on the cliff they stood on, dipping a shoulder to allow them to ascend.
Laenor easily vaulted onto the creature's back. J'raal did not move, not even raising his head to follow Laenor's movement. Her laugh had a cruel ring to it.
"Too tired even for this, J'raal?"
The dragon reached out. J'raal's exhausted body reflexively shifted his weight backwards, away from the deadly claws of the beast. They closed around him before he could fall backwards. The dragon beat the air with its wings, launching itself off the cliff, and headed in the direction of the moon.