Moonrays

Chapter 1: The midnight visitor

Touching the brass handle on the door to his room, Akkarin sighed as the strong, oak door swung inwards with a creak. It had been a long night. He illuminated the cold darkness within with a shallow globe light that cast shadows of the spars furniture twisted on the bare floorboards.

Stepping in without hesitation, Akkarin removed his bloodied shirt, the brisk night air cool on his chest. Silently, Takan entered behind him, still holding the deadly, curved blade by its jewelled handle. Before handing him his clothes, Akkarin gazed at it, the pale moonlight reflecting off it. If he didn't know what it was used for, he thought, it may well have seemed beautiful here.

Closing his eyes and turning away, Akkarin stepped into his washed and pressed nightclothes, his incal embroided in gold thread on the translucent silk sleeve.

'You need to rest, master' Takan said from the doorway, his thick, Sachakan accent even more apparent in the silence of the night. Akkarin looked up at his willing servant, into his large, green eyes, so filled with concern and worry.

' As do you Takan' he smiled slightly at the fatigue that the man was clearly trying to hide, but was written so boldly all over his face, ' yet I know that you will not rest until I am sound asleep, and even then you will still find it hard to drift off, knowing what is still out there and looking for me…' once again his expression was grave, 'another night the slave has eluded me… more murders will surely follow if someone doesn't find him soon, if I don't find him soon!'

Takan backed away in fear as an anger like no other burned furiously in his masters' eyes. Flames of rage appeared around Akkarin's clenched fists, the edges of his nightshirt beginning to turn black and char with the intense magical heat. Standing up rigidly, Akkarin strode to the open window and stared coldly into the night. He wanted to scream and shout his anger. His anger for the Sachakan slaves that were drawing their power from the dwells, his anger for the Ichani for taking his life and the woman he loved and smashing them all to smithereens so long ago and anger at the rest of the guild for not seeing the obvious threat that lied beyond the allied lands, in the wastelands of Sachaka. But he couldn't. That would mean confessing to the crime that he had to commit on a regular basis. A crime that wouldn't just get him removed from his position of high lord, or even just exiled. He would be executed, for seeking knowledge of, learning how to use and practicing Black Magic. From the high window in his room, Akkarin could see through the darkness the sleeping guild. The novice's quarters so filled with noise and movement during the daylight hours had fallen still. Only a few globes could be seen in the windows of magician's rooms, most likely those of teachers preparing work for their classes the next day. And even the nightroom was silent. How could they sleep when a threat the guild had not faced for centuries was strengthening their forces, preparing to invade and take over.

Returning to his bed, Akkarin lay on the soft, down mattress and closed his eyes. Looking to the doorway through the gloom, he could see that Takan was still standing there faithfully, not wanting to leave his masters side.

'Go, Takan, you have a long day ahead of you tomorrow. You will be needing your sleep just as much as I will.' As the servant left, Akkarin sighed again and extinguished the globe light, plunging the room into near darkness. He knew that Takan would not sleep, just as Takan knew that that his master would not either.

But the Ichani will not be sleeping, Akkarin thought to himself, they would also be lying awake, knowing that they would have to send another, stronger slave soon, and that they would have to relinquish another main part of their power source to come and fight him in the vein hope that one of these ill-trained, unskilful Sachakans would gain enough power from the dwells to defeat the most powerful magician in the allied lands. But they would soon see his weakness, that he was the only magician using black magic in the allied lands, and that it was a crime punishable by death.

But lets not think of the future right now… I have more pressing matters at hand. Akkarin rolled over and closed his eyes, a comforting darkness enveloping him. Tomorrow, he thought, tomorrow…

* * *

Akkarin woke with a start, suddenly aware of a presence in the room besides himself. How long had he been asleep? Not long, as the moon was still high in the sky. Had the slave found him already? He couldn't believe that a mere slave of the Ichani could possibly have the courage to penetrate the guild, to confront him where he was at his most powerful, unless… unless an Ichani had decided to pay him a visit! Quickly, Akkarin strengthened the shield around him, rolled over, and threw himself out of his bed, ready to send a full-strength force-strike at the next thing that moved.

But to his surprise, standing in front of him was a tall, slender woman clad in thick, weather beaten, leather armour, long black hair and thin face outlined by the light of the light of the full moon. In her right hand she held a rapier, grooved from battle but gleaming with a light that only magic could create. Akkarin could sense her strong, unfamiliar magical presence, unhidden, radiating from her body. Her eyes were violet, penetrating deep into his own, and her lips slender and painted black.

' You are the high lord Akkarin' when she spoke, her voice commanding, and laced with no emotion, she showed her teeth, pronounced canines protruding slightly over her lips. She had a thick accent that he could not place, and her features were like that of which she had never scene before, in any of the lands he had visited on his travels.

'I am. Who are you and what is your business here, be it with the guild or with me, at this late hour?' he took on the mask of authority that he wore when dealing with his ' little family'.

'My name is Lady Ana Pavel, and my business is with you, Dark Lord' as she replied, she sheathed her sword; the light extinguished, and strode forward to look Akkarin in the eye.

Akkarin's muscles tensed, the name 'Dark Lord' was one that the Ichani had mocked him with when he had been their 'pet' guild magician. But this woman was definitely not Sachakan, and she had used the name more like a title than that of mockery. She lent forward to touch him, but was met with a powerful, unheld back force-strike, that would have killed an ordinary person, and shattered the shield of, knocked out and brutally injured any magician in the guild.

It just rippled with a purple glow off the tall woman's shield; her expression was still cold, unemotional.

'Who are you?' Akkarin shouted with a force that would have made a lower magician shrink back with fear. The woman simple smiled, showing her fanged teeth clearly in the moonlight.

' I am Lady Ana Pavel, I know your secret Dark Lord, and I know what troubles you so. I am not unlike you, Akkarin; I am not your enemy. I am your strongest ally'