15SEPHIRA
21st century man has grown ignorant of the primordial beings that stood at the birth of time. Before their names, the darkness once withdrew. Now their charges work from the shadows, seeking the works of the sages and mystics, while facing those who would bring ruin to the court of Gods.
1. Liturgy
The starkest of anomalies stalked the hallway of the hillside Swiss chalet. A man's tall shadow played lucidly against the wooden interiors. Beyond the window, moonlight danced buoyantly on the waters of Lake Geneva. Cool green eyes hidden beneath a cool green hooded sweatshirt perused the corridors. One hand clutched an iPhone, the other gripped the carved hilt of a katana.
Deft, striking notes resounded from a nearby room - classical piano bound at a feverish pitch. Still the man moved, now following the music. He could smell death already. Her world - shrouded in all its bittersweet, oozing darkness. He checked his iPhone once more, the screen a glowing daze in the waning light. Satisfied, he stuffed it into his pocket.
Staccato piano was punctuated by the door being swung open. One final press. A daring sound. And then the piano playing abruptly stopped. He could see the musician, who refused to turn and meet his intruder. A middle aged man, dark groomed hair falling to his shoulders.
"So this is it."
The man with the katana remained still, poised on the threshold. His eyes never left the owner of the chalet that sat at his piano stall.
"I had thought you would come in the dead of night. Would that not have been more fitting for your mistress? Such a shame. I was enjoying my evening."
On the edge of the piano rested a stout glass of whisky and ice. It was almost finished. A curved fragment of moonlight cut through the glass and shaped itself against the adjoining wall.
Finally, the intruder with the katana passed through the doorway and approached the man sat at his piano stall. He was surprised when his target abruptly stood up from his seat and turned to face him. He saved face regardless, as he was akin to do.
"My Lady does not play to your expectations." The intruder's voice was surprisingly smooth. "Primordial beings don't."
The piano player sneered. He raised one hand in mercy, the other slowly reaching for his whisky glass.
"At least let me take one last sip."
"Tell me."
"Whisky first. Answers later."
The intruder acted quickly. His feet moved like quicksilver, and within one fluid motion, the katana's edge rested against the man's veiny neck. The air crackled. Both men's breaths became audible and restless.
"I see." The musician's eyes glanced along the length of metal. If he was afraid, he did not show it. "Asereth ha-Dibroth."The words were enunciated with the hallowed passage of time.
The katana edged closer. So close that the metal nicked a scrap of skin. A thin river of blood streamed from the cut, running along the metal idly.
"The court is amok with treachery," the man at the blade's edge stated. He swallowed, and the motion sent out a fresh undulation of blood from the little wound. "Nyx has blinded you to the truth I see."
The movements that had caused this situation were proven not to be fluke, as the katana was swiftly moved and sliced against the man's left shoulder tendon. He cried in pain, but somehow remained on his feet. The katana returned to his neck, fresh blood mottling its surface.
"One may smile, and smile, and be a villain," the katana toting intruder muttered.
Even against the pain, his target's eyes narrowed. He swayed a little.
"Hamlet," he croaked, "well here is one for you: something is rotten in the state of Denmark. Bless your soul… Denmark. I use your name in vain."
The katana cut deeply, a wave of hot blood gushed from the man's neck. The whisky glass cascaded, shattering as it hit the floor. He pulled the sword away, allowing the severed body of the pianist to crumple to the ground.
He had expected as much.
Pulling his iPhone from his pocket again, his finger tapped into a GPS system, and he began to move slowly, adjusting his position in the room until he matched that of a symbol on the phone screen's map. Once he was there, he moved the blade and gently made a cut at the end of his finger. He stabbed the katana into the floorboards, and rubbed a droplet of his blood onto the blade, so that it merged with the blood of his victim.
Slowly, dark flecks began to raze his vision. A passion swept over him. It was pleasurable. Ecstasy in a sense. But there was a dark undercurrent, one he was careful to keep control of. The room swirled a few times, and then normality began to return, and he walked to the body once again.
The katana was brutally plunged into the corpse, but its effects were almost instantaneous. A vigour took hold of the body, and it rose up, limbs seemingly propelling the movement. The man's neck was still gaping open, but the blood had stopped flowing out inhumanly fast. The man gasped awake, the only difference evident in his black, glassy eyes.
"How…did you?" his voice was husky, but intelligible.
"You mean the hexagram? It is surrounding your house. Flashy, I know, but safer than drawing one in here."
"What is…your…name?"
"Caspian," the katana wielder replied. He did not even hesitate. A preeminent power flowed through his words, and a pernicious gaze from his eyes. "And now you will guide me to the fifth."
A/N: Finally, a new story from me. I'm going to be putting links to pictures of the characters on my profile, so check them out, Caspian is there already. Not much more to say except reviews will be returned :)